Feelings On Paper

i literally do not want to be on this planet

i have reached the conclusion that i am unhappy.

i give myself the illusion i am okay when i show up for work,
when i dress up and spend time with my loved ones,
in those moments i consistently do my chores around the house,
pay my bills and build an even better credit score,
when i make my own food and leave a clean plate.

it's all a failed attempt though,
it only gives a small pleased feeling,
never happiness.

i cannot look in a mirror and say that i love myself,
i can call the face i see pretty,
but only if it has make up on.

i can make responsible choices,
but only if there is a reward.

i may laugh and smile,
present myself with such an inviting presence,
one filled with energy,
while behind the scenes...

i look at the razors in my bathroom every day and wonder if anyone would notice new marks on my skin.

i wonder if i stop fixing my car it will kill me on the road.

the thoughts circle so much that it gets to the self destructive tendencies of my mind.

i begin drifting again from loved ones on purpose because who am i to be cared by them?

i no longer sleep and every time i try to its nightmare after terror.

i dont think i have a coffee addiction because its good,
but because it keeps me awake

i dont think i vape because its cool,
but because i know depression can cause for the heart to slow its rate and nicotine does the opposite

i dont think i smoke weed because its fun,
but because when im high the screaming in my head stops

i dont think i drink because it feels good,
but because when i do it helps me forget

im so unhappy yet functioning;
it's strange, really.

it makes me wonder if it'll eventually end,
whether with a cure to this never ending self hatred,
or just with me.